


The tiger and the spider

by FablePsycho



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-07 15:11:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21460096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FablePsycho/pseuds/FablePsycho
Summary: Amara the siren returns to her home planet of Partali to save it from a new wave of crime and corruption that has sprung up in her absence. She enlists the aid of Zane Flynt, and the two delve into the shady depths of the planet to stop it. Corporations have taken up shop, enemies both old and new come into the fray, and each choice will determine the path these two must follow.
Relationships: Amara/Zane Flynt
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. The Deal

Full disclosure, this story is interactive. In upcoming chapters, polls will be put up to determine what actions these two will make as the story progresses. There will be a degree of choice, some will be immediate, and some will have long-lasting consequences. Consider these options wisely, as they will affect the characters Amara and Zane meet throughout the story. Pick the option you think best, or just go with the option you think the characters would. Now without further ado, LET THE STORY BEGIN.

Chapter 1: The deal

Sanctuary, for a year and four months now, this had been home to Amara, the Tiger of Partali. A title brought upon her for being the hero vigilante of her home planet. Her fists became the stuff of legends, as she wielded them and her siren powers against those who took advantage of the poor and meek. Corruption ravaged her home once, it was filled with gangsters and tyrants, and she beat them all down. Amara had one every fight she had ever been in...except one.

She never brought this up or told this to anyone that knew her. There had been one who escaped her, one who had badly hurt her pride, one who had nearly killed her in her career. She had never seen the face of this person, only this person used to spread fear and invoke anarchy upon her home. As Amara was coming up as a hero in Partali, the Panther was establishing him or herself as the villain.

The panther had been her nemesis early on in her career. One of her first real opponents, someone so crafty, they had nearly killed her three times. Coward never showed his or her face, but instead employed dirty tricks and terrible ultimatums. Choices between saving the lives of others or pursuing their identity. Instances and outcomes where a few well-placed turrets, henchmen, and locations that made all the difference to their battles. The Panther would find ways to outwit her and escape justice.

Then one day, the Panther just disappeared, had gone away as if they had never been there. The people of Partali rejoiced of course, the Tiger had dealt another crushing blow against crime and villainy. Amara though...she had never believed it, had always thought the Panther would one day return to wreak havoc. It stung her pride, she hated the Panther, and the feelings of doubt this person caused her. She was a goddamn siren but this deranged anarchist proved how vulnerable she had been.

Of course, Amara knew she wasn't invincible, she bled like any other human being. She had the scars of the trials and tribulations she had undergone before and after becoming the Tiger of Partali. The challenge she had undergone with her group in their campaign against the Calypso twins also served as a reminder that she was not untouchable. They had won, but the cost had still been too costly. A friend and ally had died, and she wasn't there to stop it from happening.

Amara hated this feeling, knowing that she had the power to make a difference, but being unable to do so. It wasn't something she could accept of herself, the Tiger did not fail, the Tiger was always there to save everyone. In war, death is inevitable, there was no avoiding it. Still, to have lost two of her siren sisters, one being their leader within such a short span of time...the universe was chaotic, unpredictable, and filled with danger.

Amara knew this and reveled in this knowledge. When there were no more fights to be had on Partali, she set her sights on Pandora, with all the thrills, fights, and fame she could ask for. She was usually a solo artist, but when she ran into the other three in her group...it was like poetry. Usually, she'd leave anyone who tried to match her in might and fighting prowess in the dust. But these three...Amara had never thought to meet, let alone find people like them.

You had FL4K, the beastmaster, a being whose sole purpose was something they called the great hunt. A self-given purpose which involved hunting the greatest, most dangerous creatures and beings in existence within the universe, and beyond. Amara found the bot strange at first, unsure of what to make of this being that had discovered autonomy, and embraced this strange pack mentality with beasts. The bot proved to be a great ally who was factual, to the point, efficient, and unrelenting in the service of death.

Then there was Moze, probably the most practical and sanest person of their group, but was still as much a badass as the rest of them. Moze had been the tank of their group, being as she literally carried one with her wherever she went. Amara wasn't tech-savvy, she did not rely on technology, nor trusted her life with something she could accomplish with her bare hands. True might had always been a virtue she upheld, not just in her displays of combat prowess, but in her very appearance as well. But with Moze as the pilot to the beast of a machine the soldier calls Iron Bear, Amara was impressed. The mech wasn't a crutch either, the little soldier proved to be just as dangerous outside her mech as she was inside it. Seeing the two work in sync with one another was a true art form to behold, a true maestro of mayhem conducting a machine of death. With all the gunfire, explosions, and the overall devastation they leave in their wake, it was no wonder Vladof wouldn't let Moze go.

And then finally, there was Zane, who was as chaotic and unpredictable as the universe they inhabited. The man was a machine, unrelenting, quick to act, near-unstoppable when he put his mind to something. Zane had no special gifts, nor beasts, or a giant robot. All he had were a few nifty gadgets, experience, and a jovial motivation to him that was both admirable and remarkable for someone in his line of work. Zane was the jack of all trades, he had FL4K's precision and efficiency, Moze's ingenuity and tech expertise, and admittedly Amara's own unrelenting fighting prowess. The man lived for danger, thrills, and any challenge the universe would throw at him. To him, vault hunting was his idea of retirement, causing Amara to wonder what the man's idea of actual work is if this is his idea of "retirement." All this, while being an easy-going, psychotically hyperactive drunkard, whose always ready for the next task asked of him. Amara didn't know what to make of him after all this time they've fought together. She didn't understand what it was this man wanted or was trying to prove.

She understood the motivations of FL4K and Moze well enough, but Zane's reasons for joining up with the Raiders never made sense to her. She didn't know if he was mad or brilliant, but she figured she'd soon find out. This enigma of a man is the one she decided to turn to for help in a very personal matter. The reason for it being the man's profession prior to joining the Raiders. Amara had seen how he fought and operated. If he was capable of surviving as long as he has in his career as a hitman, then his skills in tracking his mark must have been as sharp as his abilities to kill. Amara needed someone who could lay low and Zane was the only one she knew, trusted, and associated with to ask for this sort of help. She didn't want to bring mayhem or harm to her home or her allies by bringing them into something that had not concerned them. Amara may have left Partali, but she did not leave it behind, it would always be her home. Occasionally she'd check the echo-net to know what had gone on since she left her home. In the time she had been gone, Partali had built itself up from the slums she had grown in. This change would be something she'd approve of if it didn't involve the corporations having a hand in it.

The corporations taking an interest in Partali were Dahl, Vladof, and the worst of them being Maliwan. Amara didn't know or understand why these three corporations took interest in her home planet. Part of her thinks it's her fault, because of her siren lineage. Partali could have been listed as a planet likely to give rise to another siren. Another possible reason would be that these three wish to take advantage of Partali and it's people. Before, the only manufacturers the people of Partali could afford were cheap crap guns like Tediore. If you saw any other guns or manufacturers in Partali, it was likely black marketed or half-hazardly pieced back together. Now that her home had a marketable economy, these three seized the moment to make a profit. After the wars and countless casualties these corporations likely suffered over the years, they sought a planet they figured would be an easy mark.

With the arrival of the corporations, her old nemesis of hers had finally made their return. After all these years, the Panther was once again causing crime and anarchy. New thugs and tyrants have risen because of the Panther's return, all engaged in turf wars, and hurting innocent people. It was all made worse with the corporations acting as arms dealers to these new tyrants and gangsters. Partali was falling back to crime and corruption, giving Amara reason and resolve to come back home. She had liberated Partali once, she could do it again, but she knows better than to underestimate her nemesis this time around. She has grown powerful in her time with the Raiders. The trials and challenges she had undergone in her time with the Crimson Raiders have increased her powers and capabilities many-times what they had once been since she left Partali. But if this is true of her, then why wouldn't the same apply to the Panther?

Whoever the Panther is, they've had years to improve upon what they had once been. And with the problems plaguing Partali, Amara knew she couldn't divert her attention from the people. They are the ones who would need her help most, so she needed someone to track down the Panther. Amara was not ashamed of her allies, but she still had a reputation, an image to uphold. She could not, and would not risk betraying and destroying the image of the hero the people had of her. She could already see the headlines, "The Tiger associates with murderous robots, killers and fascists from the corporations, and a psychotic maniac who takes credit cards." She would not subject her allies, her legend, or herself to that scrutiny. Then there were the problems that would arise if the Vladof corporation found out Moze went AWOL. There is no promise of loot or riches to be gained, and if there was, then not enough to make up for such a favor. Finding the Panther would be of the highest priority. The matter was personal, not to be handled as the group usually would handle their enemies. She didn't just want the Panther dead, she wanted to bring them to justice, and it would be done her way.

When Amara sought Zane, she found him where he usually had been on the ship. He was at Moxxi's, leaning forward over the counter. A mischievous smile graced his features, clearly flirting that knockout of a bartender Moxxi herself. "Listen gorgeous," Amara heard him start, "I know ye say ye can't remember our time at the casino. But allow me the pleasure of yer graces some time."

Amara rolled her eyes at the Operative's attempt. "I promise, ya won't regret that decision. I always seek to please." The operative finished, the brow to his one eye quirked, half-smiling as he waited for her response. Moxxi let out an amused giggle, but her attention was no longer on the operative, but on the siren who walked in on the man's attempt. She smiled, acknowledged Amara, and said, "Hey sugar, what brings around here? Not that I don't mind the gun show you bring, but I hardly ever see you."

Zane turned toward Amara, the vixen obviously using her to get out of this conversation. Amara inwardly chuckled, since she met the man, most of what she had seen of his personality had been jovial, carefree, flirtatious, and overly confident. His flirting being the only thing that truly bothered her, the rest she could handle and deal with. Hell, she was no better sometimes. The way she and Zane sometimes operated, they went from overly confident to arrogant real quick.

Of course, she had good reason to be, she's a goddamn siren and the tiger of Partali. She left her home in search of a real challenge when Partali could no longer produce any that was worth her time. Zane on the other hand...she could understand where the confidence and bravado came from. She'd seen it in many a criminal and assassin, they all thought big of themselves, but Zane had proven above and beyond in that regard. He was an old man in his profession, and people in his profession have the tendency to die real young, mostly due to badasses like her and the Raiders. It was either that, or they were just really stupid.

Zane could hold his own with the rest of them, despite his age and only having a few gadgets at his call. Still, he was just a man, and realistically the weakest member of their group. What he lacked in any special ability or might, he made up with experience, skill, and cunning. Amara couldn't understand where the confidence and energy came from with him. But she would admit, it was impressive and admirable...for a guy who killed people in cold blood to make a living.

And yet, "I need your help." Amara finally admitted aloud. Zane smiled, turned to Moxxi, and said, "We'll finish this later beautiful." "Of course," Moxxi replied, "You both are welcome in my bar any time you like." She finished with a wink to Amara, which caused the siren to chuckle aloud as Moxxi disregarded the operative's charm. Zane only shrugged if off, and stood up from the stool. "You win some, you lose some." He said in a jovial tone, "Yer not gonna get'em with every swing."

Amara smiled, playfully rolling her eyes at the man, as she said in an amused tone, "I'm surprised you even have the strength and energy to swing the bat old man." Zane playfully feigned hurt, "Oh lass, yer breakin me heart, you should know me better by now." He stepped closer to the siren, "I don't jus' have enough strength and energy to swing, but te get te all the bases." He stepped in even closer, "I can show ye if ye want." Zane was really close to her now, he stood at least a few inches over her. She could smell his musk, and the alcohol in his breath. She couldn't tell if this boldness was his own, or if he had a buzz going on that made him this forward. The latter being unlikely, as the man always made a merry fool of himself, with or without the consumption of alcohol. He once roped her and the others into a dance in the middle of a firefight, and Amara was surprised at herself for how easily she fell into that insane rhythm with him. Not this time, whatever game the operative was playing, she had no time for it.

The siren remained stoic, her arms crossed and face unimpressed, but she was at a loss for words. She didn't know how to react to such a ballsy suggestion from her teammate. Normally, she was the one to initiate such interactions, her size and strength being intimidating or off-putting to most that would even contemplate the idea of touching her. None have ever been so forward, it felt strange being on the reverse end...she thought about punching him for making her feel out of her element. But for as satisfying as it would feel to introduce Zane to one of her fists, she knows it would be an overreaction. She wouldn't give the operative the satisfaction of thinking he could mess with her in this way. A minute and a half passed before the siren internally caught her bearings, put her hand on the operatives chest, and lightly pushed him back. The force of it is enough to sit him back on the stool.

"I said I need your help," Amara spoke unamused, "I'm not here to play games." Zane only looked up amused, "Eh, it was wortha shot. So, what does one of me boyos need help with?" "It's a private matter," Amara answered, "Not something that concerns the rest." Zane looked intrigued, his interest instantly registering on his face. "Ooooooo, a private matter. Sounds real personal, and a wee bit shady. Must be somethin' real important to keep the rest of our boyos out the loop. To what pleasure am I owed this kinda privilege?"

Amara answered, "I need your help finding someone. This isn't something that can be handled by getting everyone involved. I'd like this done quietly as possible, and you're the only one I know aside from Zero whose...job was to find these people." "And kill'em." Zane answered proudly, as he took a swig of his beverage. "So you want me to find this person, and end'em for ya. Is that right?" Amara looked at him peculiarly, he was way too enthusiastic about this, but then again...he was about almost anything else. It was another aspect of his character she found admirable...and enjoyable to have around. He was like her when it came to looking for a fight. As she was always hungry for the next challenge, Zane was always hungry for the next job. Except, she wasn't insane...or at least was saner than the man before her. Amara shook her head, "No, I need you to..." Then she saw a few of the bar's patrons eavesdropping on their conversation before they turned their heads and started acting like they hadn't. There were perks to being thee vault hunters of Sanctuary, the people aboard the ship would cheer and praise them for their feats. It reminded Amara of her time on Partali. The glamor, the fame, the fans, the annoying eavesdropping, the invasion of privacy. There was always a price to fame, the social responsibility of it being one of those problems.

Amara had a reputation to uphold, and letting people think that the Tiger set out hits on her enemies didn't bode well for her image or ego. This wasn't the type of conversation to just casually have out in the open. Zane, picking up on this, then said, "If ye want, we could go te my room if yer not comfortable with others overhearin' our...arrangement." Amara turned her sights back toward Zane, considered what he had said, and nodded her head in agreement. Zane turned back toward Moxxi, paid his tab, and winked at the bartender as he and Amara made their way to his room. Having this sort of conversation was best dealt with someplace quiet anyway. The normally loud and proud siren didn't want anyone to think the operative was handling someone for her she wouldn't handle herself.

The fact that she would even need his type of help already stung her ego enough as it is. She didn't like relying on others, she fought with the Raiders and her team, but this was different. This was a personal problem, something none of her teammates should have to know or concern themselves with. It was something she should feel capable of handling herself, but with her home at stake, she couldn't allow her pride to be her weakness. Besides, Amara knew she had to be clear on what she wanted, or else her teammate would set all of Partali aflame.

Subtlety was not the groups' strong point, every opposition the group and her have faced always ended in mayhem. Of course, it never ended any other way, conflict was always a certainty in this universe. Amara knew this and admittedly reveled in the knowledge of being able to crush those that stood in her way. In this regard, she knew she was no better then FL4K or Zane. Moze was the only one among them that did what she did for more practical reasons. Being a merc was something the soldier knew and was good at. She also had a heart and shared a sense of justice Amara knew all too well.

Still, the soldier had a giant mech at her command, one that could level all of Partali should its pilot deem it necessary. Moze was reliant on the mech, there was never a time Amara had seen the woman without it. FL4K was always to the point with their methods, the tin-man lived for the hunt and never concealed themselves. The bot and the beasts at its command were never subtle in their methods. They would hunt, kill, and mutilate their enemies without a second thought or any sign of remorse. Amara wouldn't know how to ask the bot to conceal the beasts since hunting without their pack never seemed to be an option.

Then there was Zane, the most expressive member of their little group, despite his prior profession being one of espionage and cold-hearted murder. Amara found it hard to believe this man was as aged and experienced as he says he is sometimes. At no point in their campaign against the COV, or in any other side-venture, had she seen the man utilize skills that would befit a "master assassin" such as he. Sure, how he moved and eliminated their enemies was much more methodical, but he still left a bloody mess in his wake. The aged hitman proved quick but not clean in his methods. Sometimes Amara would challenge the old man to see who could eliminate more of the opposition they faced. Zane would always eagerly accept the challenge, and two would get lost in their bloodlust, the frenzy the challenge evoked. As much as Amara enjoyed the fun the old man and her could get up to, it didn't give the siren the sense that Zane could be as quiet and subtle as he said he could be.

Then again, not much reason for subtlety when you're openly waging war. Amara wasn't sure about the operative, but she figured she'd give him the benefit of the doubt. Again, he was the most methodical in how he eliminated their enemies. Amara could at least count on him to not create giant explosions, or tear people to pieces with beasts. The most damage she figured he could do to Partali was leave a trail of bodies in his bloody wake. The thought wasn't really ideal either, but it was better than starting an all-out war. With the three corporations setting up shop on her home planet, Amara didn't want to risk war if she could avoid it.

Amara knew her arrival with her allies could put Partali in much more danger then it would then if she seemingly returned alone. The Raiders and her group were already on bad terms with Maliwan. Vladof would become a problem once they see Moze alive and well. They'd likely force her back into service, or make her and the rest of their group targets for execution. She was a soldier that went AWOL, and the Raiders harbored her, making them all guilty by association. And then there was Dahl...that corporation screwed over every one of their soldiers and workforce for years. All of it to make a profit, it was obvious they didn't care for human life, and now they had their sights set on her home.

"Soooooo, what was it 'bout this bloke you want findin'?" Asked the operative as he made his way around the table in his room. He went for the device that held the symbol of an arachnid on its screen. Amara took note of his living space, it was much neater then she had initially expected of the man. The only area she considered messy was underneath the table itself, where scraps of paper littered the floor. Other than that, the room was average, it held some personal items. It had books, what looked to be a human skull, and some signposts. Despite the tidy appearance, the room held some Pandoran sensibilities. It also held some mounted trophies and guns on the walls.

All of them earned from the missions they had taken on as a team. The siren quirked a brow, she wouldn't have taken Zane for the sentimental type, as he never seemed to take things seriously. There were times, but only when their lives were at stake, but that could be said of anyone with a survival instinct. He could have just kept all of this as souvenirs, memoirs of his accomplishments and feats. She was never sure if the man had a heart to him, or solely acted on his own self-interests. No one in his line of work would survive as long as he has by being a fool. It didn't matter how skilled you were if you couldn't cope, handle, or got too big-headed for such a lifestyle. This lead Amara to believe the man only played the fool for appearance. It was this aspect of his character that made her hesitant to ask for his aid, she wasn't sure if he'd follow her instructions or act on his own accord once she set him to the task. Either way, she needed his type of help if she wanted to handle this personal matter her way.

And so Amara spoke, "It's an old enemy of mine. Back when I was just beginning my role as the protector of my home. Partali had many dangers, from gangsters to insane anarchists. This person, the Panther was all of this and much worse. The Panther played with the lives of others. I never learned this person's name, they only ever went by their title." Zane listened in as he sat down on the opposite side of the table, typing away with the device now on its surface. Amara looked at him strangely, did he intend to work out whatever had going on as she explained this to him?

Zane picking up on the siren's questioning glare turned back toward her, and answered, "I'm jus' gettin me database up an runnin'. Ye said this bloke was an old enemy of yers, right?" Amara nodded, and Zane continued, "So, I'm writin' in the name, and connectin' it to what yer sayin'. I'm seein' if I can pinpoint this bloke for ya." Amara's eyes lit up, would it really be that easy? Was the operative actually able to do what she had failed to for years in a few seconds?

"Let's see, Panther, Panther, Panther, ah I got somethin'." Amara leaned forward over the table in anticipation, this was it, she would finally-"And I got nothin'." Amara's face went slack-jawed for a moment, then confused, and then finally annoyed. "Are you trying to be funny right now?" the siren asked irritated, "If you are, then I'm not laughing. This is serious, and I need you to be as well." Zane looked up from his device and regarded the siren, his own being one of genuine concern.

"I am takin' this seriously." He began to explain, "The fact that I got nothin' comin' up in me database 'bout this Panther who's-it-what's-it ain't normal. From me personal device 'ere, I can splice, hack, decrypt, and search for any of me intended targets and their current activities. From here, I can see what he, she, or they have been gettin' up too. The only thing I can find on yer Panther is the damage they've done of late. And yer right, real menace this arsehole is. Acts of terrorism, deaths of innocent people, hirin' out people to do dirty work, an' more. The list goes on, there's even a bounty on the fecker, though there's no description of'em. Looks like no one has seen'em, and no one can track'em, since they seem te be off the grid. My little computy here can't seem to crack'em either."

Amara raised her brows in astonishment, she only gave him a little to go off of, and he was already at work. Still, she had more to make clear to the operative, this wasn't just about stopping this deranged psychopath. "This is not all I need. I need someone to come with me to Partali." At this, the operative stopped typing on his computer and looked up at the siren, intrigue was again clear on his face. Amara went on, "Partali, my home, it faces the problems it has before. There is crime and corruption, there are new tyrants that have risen in place of the old ones. Gangsters, thugs, bandits, and it's all made worse by the Panther's return and corporations that have set their eyes on Partali. I uplifted the people of my home once, I can do it again, but I can't divert my attention from them."

The siren made sure to look the operative in the eye as she explained it all. "I will not risk endangering the people by bringing the Raiders into this. I don't want to spill any more blood then I have to, that's why I'm asking for your help. So as a friend and ally, will you help me put a stop to the Panther's madness?" Zane held her gaze for a moment until he sat back in his chair and let out a hearty laugh. It caught Amara off guard, the siren was again stunned by the old man's answer, but she was not amused with it.

"Did I say something funny old man." The question was rhetoric, Amara was not in a joking mood. Zane stopped his laughing but still had an amused smirk on his face. "Y'know, ye should consider a career in actin'." He admitted, in a light-hearted tone. "You make it all sound like we're in some movie echo. It's not necessary if ye need me help, jus' say so. No need te talk it up like the fate of the world rests on our shoulders. These things happen, if y'ed rather not involve the rest of the crew, I won't say anythin.' It's yer show, all ye need te worry 'bout is the price."

"Price?" Amara asked confused. She then understood what he meant, and asked incredulously, "Are you serious? After all we've been through as a team, you're charging me for your help?" Zane put up his hands and shrugged, "Well I hadn't said me help would be free. 'Sides, it's only fair, gettin' somethin' for all trouble I'd put me'self through te help ye find this arsehole." "What trouble?" Amara questioned, "I'm the one that will deal the Panther, and any other jackass that crosses us. Your only job is to find the Panther for me. Where's the risk for you?"

Zane answered honestly, "How do ye think I'm goin' te find the Panther? I can't track'em through me computer. I don't have enough infer'mation to piece together where the arsehole is or could be. I can't call on any old connections without alertin' some shite-head that wants mine served on a platter. The only option I got te help ye with is good ol' fashioned espionage. Meaning I'm gonna have te get involved with the wrong kinda crowds. All the while, makin' sure no one recognizes me. I've made a'lotta enemies in me day lass, I'm puttin' me neck out for you. I'm pullin' me'self out of retirement, cause I consider ye one of me boyos. And I ain't chargin' ya like anyone else, you bein' me friend means ye get a discount. The bounty on this Panther fella, there's a'lotta cash te be earned with that one. Figured you could pay me with that."

Hearing it all put this way, Amara had to admit his condition of being paid for his services was reasonable. But then again, "Why shouldn't I just ask someone else? Why not Zer0? He might appreciate the challenge." Zane, as if anticipating the siren's counter condition, then said, "Lass, Zer0 has been out of this game for a'while now. He's settled up why that Rhys fella. He's a fine killer, but he hasn't done what yer askin' me te do fer seven years. I've only been out the game for a year, and I'm still up te practice. 'Side's I doubt Zer0 will do it fer free either. And last I checked, a lady like yew doesn' concern 'erself with the likes of men like me. We're all killers for loot and riches, but Zer0 and I are the only professional's yer friendly with. If ye want me te be quiet, I'll be quiet. If ya want me te jump, then I'll jump for ya. If ye want me te hold this Panther feller down while you beat down on'em, I'll hold'em down for ye. And if yew want the fecker's death te be really gruesome, I know a few methods. Yew can watch while I do all the work if that's yer thing."

Amara didn't know what to make of that last part, but she understood the gist of it. This was the deal Zane had cut out for her. He was willing to follow her instructions should she set them. He was willing to risk life and limb because she was his friend and because he loved getting paid. He was willing to keep quiet about their arrangement, no one else, not even Moze or FL4K would know about this arrangement. Amara had to hand it to the old man, he made it all sound like the best deal she could get. Still, there was one last thing she had to make clear before she agreed to it.

"Just two conditions," Amara decreed, "No killing innocent people, and try not to cause too much trouble. We're trying to help these people, not make things worse for them." Zane smirked, "Ye got yer'self a deal lass. Put'ta there." Zane stood out of his chair with his hand outreached toward Amara. Amara considered her options again but figured that this had been the best course of action. She had already agreed, and the Tiger does not back out of her own deals. The siren took the operative's hand firmly, and they shook. "We have a deal."


	2. The operative and the siren

Zane Flynt regarded himself in the mirror, gazing at the handsome mug that stared back at him. If this plan was to work, he couldn't be recognizable, or else risk needless complications for the task ahead of him. "Sorry ta have te do this to ya gorgeous." the operative spoke to his reflection. He grabbed his trimmer and began to get to work removing his signature hairstyle, beard, and stache. While Zane could have avoided the hurt that came with altering his handsome mug at the quick-change station in Sanctuary, the idea was not to let anyone know he was altering his appearance. He couldn't very well hide in plain sight if people knew who he was, or if the quick change network registered his altered appearance.

When he first had lay low on Pandora, Zane had to cut ties with all known contacts and associates. It also meant he had to erase any and all data that could be used to track him. It would let his former associates and acquaintances know if he had committed the sin of altering his mug or changed anything else to avoid being detected. Zane had lost years' worth of data, disguises, and heads that had been of benefit to him in his years as a corporate hitman. It was also the reason he had to re-register at a quick change station with the new Echo 3 Claptrap had provided for him and the team with their first introduction into the Crimson Raiders.

Reconnecting to the network was needed if Zane was going to utilize the fast travel station to get anywhere with the Crimson Raiders. Still, it had meant ciphers searching for him would know he was back on the grid. This, of course, meant he would face...complications while working with the Raiders. Complications he dealt with quickly and silently, so that no one in the group would notice. Zane didn't need them getting involved with his personal problems. It wasn't an aspect of his past the operative felt he wanted to share with his boyos.

Occasionally, an assassin would strike at Zane during the chaos of the war against the COV. But since taking down the Calypso twins, and accomplishing many other feats with the Raiders, the attempts on his life had died down. The assassins learned they couldn't take him on their own, they couldn't jump him, and they wouldn't risk facing him head-on while with the Raiders. Though the attempts died down, so did the action with the Raiders. The thrill and excitement of vault hunting had dulled down for the operative. At one time, he could understand what all the fuss was about, but now the feat of hunting and conquering a vault and the monster that dwelled in it felt mundane.

Now, he was just sitting at Moxxi's, drinking pints and waiting on orders from their young siren commander. While Zane was all for enjoying a pint in peace, he didn't like getting complacent. If he hadn't been forced to "retire" he'd be out and about fulfilling a contract, getting wasted at a party, or getting laid. He liked this lot he fought with, but with all this waiting for the next vault or mission to complete, Zane found himself in his head a lot. This made him miss getting shot at, as he didn't really like spending too much time in his head, it made him stir crazy. He hoped for anything to do than to sit here on his ass, and then the siren came and gave him something worth doing.

A target and an actual agreed upon contract to kill someone who had quite the reputation and body count on'em. Zane Flynt, the infamous surviving Flynt brother, was more than eager for the task his siren friend requested of him. Truth be told, he would have done the job for free if Amara had bothered to haggle with him, but the reward that was promised for this Panther feller's head...it was too good to pass up. "Old habits die hard," so the saying went, and Zane Flynt knew this saying all too well.

His "retirement" if you could call it that, wasn't exactly all it cracked up to be. Of course, it wasn't really his choice. With nearly every corporation and shady group after his head, the operative could barely enjoy anything. Couldn't even drink a pint in peace without having to look over his shoulder. The last assassin that had tried to kill him had recommended Pandora as a place to lay low after his failed attempt on the operative's life.

Barnabus had been his name, an old acquaintance that recommended the shite-hole that had been Zane's home planet. Pandora, the waste-land of a planet that had birthed and raised up the infamous Flynt brothers. A Dahl prison warden turned bandit chief named Baron, a deranged pyromaniac named Captain, and then there was little ol' him. Zane Flynt, the most handsome bastard this side of the six galaxies.

He's done a lot in his day, but joining the Raiders...that was just something he had decided to do on a whim. It was an opportunity to liven up the slump that had been his "retirement." Didn't really know what he would get up to, but anything would have been better than the menial tasks left to him when he had decided to take Barnabus' advice, and lay low on Pandora. Zane Flynt wasn't really one who planned for anything long term. In this galaxy, nothing was ever certain when it came to living. But dying though, hoo hoo, that was always a certainty. The operative wouldn't have had to "retire" if it wasn't for this factor. Now Zane didn't much mind dying, but being the ultimate hypocrite that he was, he wouldn't let some arsehole make a profit off his hide. Of these arseholes there were many, If these shites figured him a coward for turning tail when he did, then he was ready and willing to show them otherwise. People could say what they wanted about him, but there was one thing people should be certain to learn.

Aside from being ridiculously handsome, and a one-man armada, Zane Flynt was a survivalist. He had survived growing up in the harsh wastelands of Pandora with brothers who had tried to kill him. He had survived corporations and their wars, always working for the highest paying company that could afford his "loyalties." Planning long term had never been his thing but making a plan for the immediate moment, Zane Flynt always had a plan...he supposes that's why he had to "retire."

But it was also how he managed to stay steps ahead of his enemies. They would never see him until it was too late, and when everything was set and done, he would dance on their graves. His youth on Pandora made him a stone-cold killer and joining up with Dahl's black op units had only helped to refine his capabilities. Oh yes, Zane Flynt had a plan to kill everyone he meets. The corporate heads he'd put down in his time as a hitman would always look surprised in their last moments. They always pleaded for their lives, and always told him he didn't have to do this.

Then they'd try to bargain, and tell him they would pay more for his services if he just let them live. They all pleaded and did the same thing, of course that would be enough to save their sorry skins. Sure, the money was great, guns were always worth looting, and the pleasures to indulge in were plenty. But these things were just a bonus to him. Zane was already a wealthy man at his age. The clothes and tech he'd wear and utilize being an obvious indication to anyone who noticed them.

He had the means to go off the grid and retire in peace if that was what he wanted to do. Just leave it all behind, his job, his namesake, the legacy he had made for himself. He could have fooled the universe and told it Zane Flynt was dead. He could change his face and become just like anyone else with a simple quick change station. But the reasons for all of this, the bloodshed, the deranged insanity, the constant fighting...he loved it all.

To kill, to fight, to feck, to gain and acquire, to live in the moment with these thrills and pleasures. He loved it all, even despite it meaning he'd have every corporation, assassin, and criminal syndicate all gunning for him. What could he say? He was born kickin arse, and he'd die kickin arse. In this way, Zane figured he'd never truly outgrown Pandora. No matter how much time passed, he would always have the heart of a bandit. It was there in every job, in every contract, anyone he worked for could always count on him to get the job done. And he always got it done. Business and pleasure were one and the same for Zane Flynt. He always carried out his task with a skip in his step. The more challenging, the better the thrills he constantly sought. It wasn't any fun if there wasn't a proper scrap. And Zane Flynt was always itchin for a fight.

Then after a good day's work, he'd kick back, have a pint, and sometimes engage in more carnal exploits. And why wouldn't he? Handsome bastard he was, he took full advantage of this fact. It didn't matter who he'd lay down, not when there was a good time to be had all around. Though his langer did have the habit of getting him into a lot of trouble back in his youth. Making and breaking meaningless relationships. Waking up next to people he didn't know. Suddenly being married to his or her whats-it-face. Moments that sometimes left him to pick up the pieces of shattered pride. But not with this group, there was the occasional flirt here and there, but all in good-natured fun. That was unless they actually wanted to have a go. Unlike most peers Zane had worked with in the past...he actually liked these people.

Especially the four he had fought with in putting a stop to the COV. One of them being the siren that requested his help. Speaking of the siren, the operative could have not asked for a better ally and teammate to work with when it came to the Crimson Raiders. From the way she fought to her mystical feats with large glowy ghost hands. Zane had nothing but respect for this amazing woman. He always loved a gal that could handle herself. Though despite his attraction to the lass, he and this lot were engaged in a war. No time seemed appropriate, before or after this fact, to have a grand whole time shagging. The Raiders seemed to be involved with all sorts of troubles. Not that Zane much minded this fact, he could be serious when he wanted to be. Work would come first, and pleasure would soon follow after. He could separate the entities when he needed too. Zane Flynt could be anything he was called on to be.

Besides, he had already been with people like Amara before. Strong, confident, powerful, sure of themselves, people like that always got his blood pumpin. What threw him off was her ideals of "justice." Truth be told, he didn't know what to make of her with that last one. Unlike most that were given her kind of power in this universe, she actually tried to stand by morals and virtues. Such idealism was bound to get you kicked, but being the badarse siren she was, Amara took the challenge in strides. Though that didn't mean the siren was all good. Like most folk in the galaxies, she also had a dark side to her. One that reveled in the thrills and bloodshed that came with being a vault hunter. Zane liked this side of her, but the operative didn't understand why this siren tried to uphold these high standard ideals she had no obligation to fulfill. If anything, she seemed like the type who'd be much better off if she just cast away the restrictions she set on herself.

To Zane, she was someone chained down by her own sense of fulfillment and purpose. Amara delighted in the same violence and mayhem he was accustomed too, but she did so thinking she was the right in doing what she did. No one would object or say she was wrong, who would? She took out their trash and made a show of strength to those who doubted her. The operative didn't see why she'd hold herself to these distinctions of right and wrong. She just did and sought self-gratification through the appraisals of her might and deeds. Zane never would have expected her to ask for his kind of help. Not when it meant she couldn't take sole credit for accomplishing the feat.

Zane liked to think he was good at reading people at this point in his life. It was a skill he had first acquired growing up on Pandora. Trades and deals between clans would always have an air of distrust and animosity. You'd want to know if the trade was legit, or if you were being led to slaughter like cattle. Being able to read people was a useful skill on Pandora in general, as you never knew who'd pull a gun or knife on you. It could have been some random stranger, some desperate hungry cannibal, sometimes your own clansman...family included.

The skill was made even sharper in his trade as a hitman. It came to the point that he was sure he could assess people and their intent almost right away. Which was why he had to admit he was surprised. He was sure Amara's pride wouldn't have allowed for her to ask for the sort of help he offered. Guess chances of him being wrong were still there. Not that he minded this much either, he liked being surprised. Though he still wondered...was he actually wrong in his assessment? Or had time changed her perception of him, herself, or some other factor that lead her to ask for his aid?

They fought together for a while now, and even enjoyed each other's company from time to time. Not in the way Zane would have found more pleasurable, but there was no denying, they were both people that loved what they did. They loved fighting, they loved the thrills, they loved the challenge and chase. It made the operative sometimes wonder...There was a time he'd be head over heels for Amara. Maybe if under different circumstances. Or if he hadn't felt the dispositions he did toward the idea of deep personal relationships...maybe if he had been his younger fool-hardy self.

He paused a moment to muse these thoughts...then he thought nothing of it. This was the sort of shite his mind got up to when it got complacent. Thinking of things that weren't for him, or even good for him at this point in his life. Did he find her attractive? Yes. Did he lust for her? Absolutely. Would he take her to bed if she asked him to? Without a doubt. Would he like if they could shag on a regular basis? Life was too short in most cases. So what excuse was their not to enjoy each other's body and company. There'd be no shame in fulfilling their desires for each other. But to think anything beyond that...they were just the machinations of his lecherous old self. He wondered how long it had been since he'd gotten proper laid if this was what his sex drive resorted to when they went unanswered.

Sometimes he's surprised he's made it this far if these were the type of thoughts his mind harbored. He may have worked with this group for a while now, but for as long as the operative could remember, he'd always been alone. In his line of work, it came to be what he expected, cause he never knew who would stick a knife in his back. He'd already made a habit of taking precautions when it came to food. He didn't like the idea of being held responsible for the happiness of another either. His job was to end lives, not humor them...unless he was sought out for simple pleasure. But to feel anything deeper...not in his line of work, not with his age, and certainly not with his experiences. Besides, a handsome bastard like him, he was best at killing, fighting, fecking, and destroying. And so was Amara,...minus the part where she fecks. Gal seemed like one of the few and rare types of people who were reserved in who they shared their bodies with. The woman didn't seem like the settling type either...at least not anytime soon.

It made him feel bad for the soldier in their group. The gunner named Moze, who wielded a giant mech named Iron Bear. It was obvious to the operative the gunner fancied the bulky siren. He couldn't blame her, a fine lass like that, it'd be weird not to feel anything between your legs. The gunner obviously liked the siren, he once heard her dreamily admitting her attraction before trying to dismiss them as nothing. Gal certainly wouldn't be making any headway if she couldn't even say how she felt without fear of rejection. Gunner wasn't gonna get the siren's attention that way. She had to stand firm and tell a woman like that she wanted to be with her.

And show her that she's someone she would want to be with. Amara was not someone content to sit idly, she held a sense of wanderlust, something Zane was all too familiar with. She would not be content so long as there were fights and challenges to overcome. As much as the siren preached that she fought for justice, Zane knew she loved the violence just as much, if not more so. A selfless task which fed her selfish desires deep down. Amara was most content indulging in the visceral glory she felt when performing her duties as the tiger. Zane found this side of her beautiful...he wasn't sure how the gunner would take this.

Then again, time changes everyone. Zane had been wrong in his assessment of Amara seeking any kind of help in tasks he was certain she would have preferred to do for herself. There was probably still a chance for the gunner, the gal was as badass as they came, and even more so with that mech of hers. She had a good head on her shoulders too. Of everyone in their group, she was the most normal, and had the most common sense. Time would only tell if the two were compatible or not. For now, the soldier was content with her giant robot...and that line of thought would finally bring Zane to the last member of their group.

FL4K, the cold and calculated robot of their group. Zane had seen a lot of murder crazed A.I.'s in his day, but FL4K...the tin-man was something else. Keeping beasts as pets, not an uncommon sight for Pandora, but both amazing and strange to witness with the robo-hobo. The Bot worked in perfect harmony with their pets, embracing this strange pack mentality for something they deemed as "The great hunt." All a bunch of malarky and superstitious nonsense if you asked the operative. There was no greater purpose then self-fulfillment. We're born, we live, we fight, and we die. And feck all to anyone that told him how to live, think, or feel about anything.

Still, this "Great hunt" FL4K refers too...it gives the bot purpose and meaning. Zane could understand that his own way of life was not for everyone. Not for idealistic sirens, or for veteran corporate soldiers, or even A.I.'s that worshiped death. Whatever people did or told themselves to make themselves happy in life, following and believing in their values and virtues was as good a reason to carry on as any he supposed. Still, regardless of your intent or who you are, the universe just seemed to want to kick you for just about anything. Zane knows there will never truly be an end to it, and a good thing too, he'd be out of a job otherwise. Wouldn't have been able to live the life he has without conflict.

Anyway, the bot found purpose in being what they were with its beasts. In the end, he couldn't blame the bot, to deal in death, there was always a thrill to be had. Live and let live...even if the person isn't technically alive. This is the group Zane found himself with, and they were a strange lot, and that's coming from him. The operative was up for anything and would do anything...if he thought it was worth his time. But the reality of his situation had been surreal, and he'd already been around the block quite a few times. With this lot, he killed gods and monsters, no Flynt or hitman could ever make that claim. The operative never thought he'd fight beside a siren, he'd been all over the six galaxies, he thought nothing could really surprise him with his age and experience. Then like the effects of those glowing ghost hands Amara would use to phase-slam their enemies, the operative was knocked back by sheer disbelief at fighting alongside one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy.

Of course, the amazement had eventually died down, but it was quite something upon first witnessing her capabilities. Amara and him became fast friends, while the other two took some time. Moze had been mostly shut off from people at the time their group first formed. Zane understood why; he had seen it on many veterans of the corporate wars. Hell, even he still heard screaming in his head...though he wondered if it all could still be considered trauma at this point. He's heard screaming as far back as he could remember. The operative sometimes wonders if he had already lost his mind, and just didn't realize it. It all seemed natural to him at this point.

Though for Moze, this was not the case, as the soldier wouldn't let anyone in at first. Old wounds wouldn't allow her the bonds that came with being part of their little foursome. In time, she opened up, she's more expressive and easy-going now. Not the hardass she had been upon their first meeting. And as for FL4K, Zane thought he and the bot were good friends and well acquainted. Being tech-savvy certainly had its benefits, especially when making friends with an A.I. like FL4K. As soon as Zane revealed his skills as a handyman, the bot would always turn to the operative as a means of repair. After that, he earned the bot's trust, and the trust of the gunner when it came to making repairs and upgrades to Iron Bear. Pretty soon, he would gain the trust of Ellie, and aid her in the maintenance of Sanctuary. When he wasn't drinking or fighting, he was fixing shite. His shite, his friends shite, shite around the ship, his friends, it kept his mind busy.

Zane had always worked with machinery and gadgetry, even back in his youth. There was no rustbucket the last surviving Flynt brother couldn't fix. Some of his first-ever jobs were making melee weapons, repairing broken guns, stealing, and hijacking technicals for his clan. Nothing like good ol' fashioned grand theft auto to get the blood pumpin. He remembers a time when he and his brothers had found an old technical. It was a prize found in an old crashed ship. Technicals looked much different back in his youth and were less complicated than the new ones used today. Fixing up that old rig gave Zane, his brothers, and his sister a sense of awed pride. They had built a quick and easy way to get around Pandora. The accomplishment was short-lived though, as Captain would use the rig in one of their clan's raids. Long story short, the rig eventually went up in hellfire.

The time Zane had left Pandora couldn't have been soon enough. By the time he and his siblings were grown, his own brothers had tried to kill him, and his sister was just...gone. As far as he knew, he was the last surviving Flynt. Then again, there could have been a planet's worth of Flynt's running around in the six galaxies. He was never sure, as he never stayed long enough in one place to see if he had made any...accidents. Wee little things that came about when he got drunk and randy.

Zane wasn't against children, he actually quite enjoyed them, being that he himself was a child at heart. Wee lads and lasses, all staring with awe at the cool vault hunter. Sometimes the operative would make a show of his gadgets. The children, and sometimes even the parents of the children would watch his sentinel drone fly around in amazement. Even letting them give it commands...all weapons disengaged first of course. His digi-clone was the show stopper, laughs and giggles abound when he'd start dancing and flirting with his own digi-structured image. Some would even go up to the clone and poke it just to see if it was real. The clone would respond with the ruffling of the little rugrat's hair.

It was an all-around good time, and why wouldn't it be. With Zane Flynt, everything was bound to be fun and filled with amazement. Hell, amazing was his middle name, Zane "amazing" Flynt. Another thing to add to the list...he was a lot of things. And of this moment, he was all these things no longer, as he had removed most of what made him recognizable. Though most find hair to be a trivial means of disguise, it was the simplicity of it that made it work. The glorious mane of hair that had been the operative's signature style had been removed. Making him unrecognizable to both friends and enemies that knew him through his handsome mug.

The only bits of hair he kept had been a rough-looking mohawk, and the hair he left growing on the back and sides of his head. Reasons for it, he needed to look convincing as a simple thug if he was going fit in with Partali's rough underbelly. He also couldn't risk assassins or corporate pricks mucking up this job if they knew the price on his head. They'd come in full swing knowing he was on Partali without the Raiders or his team. The look was meant to make the identity he forged more realistic, so he'd blend right in. No one would try to claim the price on his head if he wore another. And the last reason...well there was no reason not to be stylish. Even without his glorious beard and stache, there was no reason to ditch having a sense of style. He's Zane Flynt, he could pull off any look, clean-shaven or not. The only thing left now to complete his disguise was his cybernetic eye.

Zane walked out of his bathroom toward the table that held all the gear he would use for this trip. His signature gadgets of course, along with his computer, and a few other devices used for..."extracting" information from people who may know something about his target. Currently, the cybernetic eye he needed was finishing up it's sync to his sentinel drone and digi-clone device. This way, the eye would function as his patch did.

Many people had thought the patch was just a means to replace the eye the operative had lost. The optical augmentation to his sight did this, it helped him see normally, but that was not the only function it served. It also worked as a means to scan an area for hidden secrets and machinery. It utilized thermal and infrared sights, a feature very useful when tracking human and other organic targets. It also helped his drone and digi-clone see what he saw, and made it easier for him to designate the next target. This feature was very useful, it gave Zane more control over his gadgets instead of relying on their automatic features to find targets on their own. It made his drone more respondent to his commands and made his digi-clone a dead-eye with any weapon it utilized. The effects were even greater with the patch being able to indicate the weak spots and vitals of any opposition the operative would encounter.

This eye would act the same in this regard, and complete this simple transformation. Though Zane didn't think he'd actually have to use it. Truth be told, the eye was part of the payment he received doing a smuggling job for Anshin. For his contributions and successful completion of the job, the manufacturers provided payment and the eye as a bonus. The operative didn't understand what the significance had been in this reward, only that the eye was the manufacturer's idea of a special reward. Zane only scoffed at the claim, as if he needed their concern or advice on how to look good. Even if they couldn't provide him a weapon, they still could have at least given him some kind of special shield. That had been what they manufactured after all. Besides, he liked his patch, he had used it for quite some time now. In addition to making him look badass, it felt very much a part of him. Which was why he was certain it would become a liability, as it was a recognizable trait of his.

As soon as the eye completed it's sync to his gadgets, Zane picked it out of its port and walked back into his bathroom. He'd need the mirror to plug the eye into the port that was in his eye socket. Zane placed his index finger and thumb around the patch, clicking on the unseen locking mechanism. The lock disengaged, and the patch popped out, leaving the operative blind on his left side. With his one good eye on the right, Zane assessed that he looked like a cyborg. This caused him to snicker, a little joke to himself in reference to how he himself could be. Driven, unrelenting, and unstoppable when he set his mind to a task. He always aimed to please, one way or another.

He could see the port in his socket, which was connected to a bunch of cybernetic implants that worked and rotated as Zane tried to position the eye in. It was a yellow dot, a beam of light indicating where to plug it. Carefully, the operative placed the plug into the port, until it got stuck halfway in. This was another reason why he preferred the patch to a replacement eye. It was less of a bitch to install. The eye was sticking out as if the engine of bandit technical was slowly crushing the air from his lungs. Not an attractive sight, and not a pretty way to go out. Taking a deep breath, Zane placed two fingers on the eye...and then quickly pushed in. There was a momentary sting, but then the operative's sight immediately returned.

He rubbed the area around his left eye socket, but then gazed at himself in the mirror. In the mirror, he was reminded of someone else. It wasn't him, but it shared enough of a resemblance to someone he hadn't seen in a while. Skin and eye color were off, but he could see the slight resemblance of his brother Baron staring back at him. This...wasn't something he was hoping for. The Flynt couldn't see himself in the mirror but was unfortunate enough to share some of the features of another Flynt he did not want to be reminded of. Not that he hated his eldest brother...just didn't like being reminded of lost family relations.

Well...at least the change worked, no one would recognize his face at least. Zane took a closer look at his new eye in the mirror and realized it had a darker shade of blue than his regular eye, which had a lighter shade. It was a mismatched coloration that made him look a bit deranged, but nothing too serious. If anything, it added to the punk look he was going for. He just hoped it wasn't so offputting that he'd be suspected of something before he actually did anything.

Turning back into his room, he placed all his prepared gear into his inventory. It was all filed under his forged identity, and would only be accessible to him. He and Amara were taking different routes into Partali, and he needed to present himself as a desperate refugee. Refugees were common no matter the galaxy you inhabited. People driven from their homes due to corporate wars, planet-wide disasters that rendered it uninhabitable, pandemics, planets engaged in civil wars, the list of reasons went on. It left many people in the galaxies migrating from one planet to another. Most of the passengers on Sanctuary were refugees, they made up most of the civ population on the ship.

Zane figured he could easily pass himself off as one of these blokes. It wasn't that hard, he already looked the type for this role he was playing...minus the clothing. Which gave him an idea. Marcus, the warmonger that had set up shop on the ship, always sold guns he had ripped from the hands of the fallen. Friend or foe, he made a profit selling guns he stole. Zane wondered if the man also had clothes in stock.

With Amara

"So...let me get this straight." Ava began, "You want to take leave for a while...so that you can fight corporate dickheads that have taken over your home planet?" Amara shook her head at her little siren sister. She knew Ava would jump to conclusions when it came to matters of saving lives. Especially, the lives of those affected by the corporations. The girl's heart was in the right place, but this aspect of her's sometimes made her misguided, even with her role as commander of the Crimson Raiders.

Not to say Ava had not matured in her position as commander. She grew wiser and more level headed with the experiences she had gone through in the past year. And with the training Amara had regimented for her, Ava had also become physically stronger. Not at the level Amara was, but physically fit enough that her form exuded the confidence her young siren sister now spoke in as well. After Maya's death at the hands of Troy Calypso, and Lilith's disappearance into Pandora's moon, Ava was left without someone to guide her in her abilities as a siren. There was Tannis, but she was not interested in being a mentor.

No, the scientist was more concerned with her experiments and other matters Amara didn't quite understand. That left Amara up for the task, and the siren was more than willing to help her younger siren sister grow strong. She taught Ava to fight, to channel her siren abilities, to keep in good physical shape. The young siren had trouble keeping up at first, making Amara chuckle when Ava promised she'd never take Maya's training for granted again. Amara pushed her, and sometimes had to be strict in her lessons. It was for the girl's own good, vault hunting was not for the weak. Amara saw to it that girl become stronger, she had to be if she wanted to survive.

Amara sometimes wondered if she was feeling what her late siren sister Maya had told her so long ago on Athenas. Yes, the role of a mentor and student could form strong bonds. But the worry, protectiveness, and pride Amara felt toward Ava...the siren did not like this feeling of vulnerability. She vowed to make Ava strong so that she wouldn't feel the need to be concerned for their young commander. The training did not become easier, but Ava had not given up or relented, she remained determined in her training.

Amara could say she was proud of how far the young siren had come, but she still held a sense of stubbornness. The girl had a good heart, Amara knew the universe lacked a great deal of these people, but there was a reason for it. People like that had the tendency to die much sooner than most. Either because of misguided attempts at trying to be noble or because they thought their good deeds were enough to save themselves and others. Which was why Amara hardened her own heart in that regard. Being good for the sake of being good would not be enough to make a difference.

Her actions meant nothing if she could not be around to ensure their fruition. Gratitude and appraisals would not fill her belly, nor give her the means to succeed or carry on. She loved crushing the skulls of villains and anyone that thought themselves above her and the people she cared for and protected. In this universe, might made right, and its effects were multiplied if it could be made into a warning. 'Surrender or face her fists.' That message was always clear, and simple to understand for anyone stupid enough to oppose her. This had been what brought down tyrants and uplifted the people of Partali.

If Amara could get Ava to understand that, then a war between the corporations, the Crimson Raiders, and her home planet could be avoided. It was bad enough crime and poverty had returned to her home planet, but the re-emergence of the Panther only further complicated things. Amara knew she couldn't stop the menace on her own with all the new problems she was bound to face. That's why she recruited Zane to her cause, his prior history as an assassin would help him blend into Partali without suspicion from the corporations. The concern Amara knew they'd have for her return could not be justified if she came alone. For all they knew, she was just coming home for a visit. They wouldn't dare try anything against the freedom fighter and symbol of peace Partali acknowledged her as. And if they did, then they'd have the tiger and people of Partali to contend with.

The corporations were greedy, Amara was counting on this knowledge she had of them to be their own downfall. Partali was not a planet they could market with the tiger ready to defend it. That's all it would need, and so Amara began, "I need to do this commander. Partali is my home, I will not risk endangering. The Raiders already have a reputation for getting involved with corporate dealings. One of them is Maliwan. I can't risk what happened to Athenas and Promethea by setting off a war. Partali has only just risen up from what it used to be. A place of crime and poverty, I will not let these corporate bastards reduce it to ashes."

Ava listened but did not seem convinced. "You want to protect your home," the young commander spoke up, "I get it. I really do Amara. But this isn't something you can do by yourself. You remember how we first met right? Maya was a siren, but we were barely holding our own until you four came. We were able to push them back because we worked together. I don't doubt what you're capable of Amara, but you can't fight these bastards alone." Amara smiled at the girl's concern and reasoning. She had come a long way from the brash and impulsive teenager she had once been. It seemed she knew that being a siren did not mean she was invincible or unstoppable.

"I understand your concern commander," Amara responded, "But I will not be alone down there. I will have the people of Partali on my side. Some of them were friends of mine that shared my mission in uplifting the people. With my fists and their help, we'll be able to restore Partali to order. The corporations won't be able to make a profit if there are no criminals and gangsters to help them exploit the people. I have uplifted them once, and I can do it again. There won't be any need to get everyone else involved if I do it this way. Do you understand commander? More lives will be saved if I'm able to do it my way."

Ava considered Amara's words but was still hesitant to give her an answer. Ava then looked to Amara, her face taking a serious tone. "And your sure you can trust these people?" asked the young commander. Amara nodded, and confidently answered, "I'm sure of it. And this is me we're talking about. Is there really any doubt." Ava's worry did not leave her face, but she still cracked half a smile at her mentors assuredness. "Alright...I'll let you handle this your way. But only if you take someone with you. I'd go with you myself, but Sanctuary doesn't run itself."

"Already took care of that." the older siren answered, "I picked the old man to come with me." Ava raised her brows, she hadn't expected that answer, she had thought Amara would pick someone much more...quiet. The young commander didn't doubt Zane's abilities, but out of everyone in their group, she was surprised her mentor picked the man that proved the most boisterous among them. "And you're sure about bringing Zane along? He never really struck me as the quiet or subtle type. Isn't that what you're going for?"

Amara simply shrugged, "I'm not sure, but he says he could pull off what I'm asking of him. We talked about it all yesterday while Moze was making repairs to Iron Bear with Ellie and FL4K was with Mordecai. The two challenged each other to a sharpshooting contest. I found Zane in Moxxi's, and we came to an agreement. He seemed the best choice. Not like the others could pull off being quiet either. The old man can run his mouth, but he doesn't use a giant robot or have beasts for pets. Besides, I trust him enough with my life on the battlefield to think he knows what he's doing. He's never given any of us a reason to doubt him."

It was the truth, the old man knew how to fight and keep tabs on the rest of them. Being able to rely on one another in a team was to be expected. They all had each other's back when it mattered. But the old man acted well as support for her, Moze, and FL4K. The old man even complimented her role as the powerhouse of the team with his own capabilities and tactics. They'd rush headfirst into danger, and let their battle lust do the rest. Where Amara took down their enemies with her strength and raw power, Zane was just as quick to dispatch said enemies with his skill and proficiency. They worked well together as the frontal assault of their group.

When it came to the old man's ability to kill and keep up with her, Amara had no doubt. He was good at what he did. Not as good as she was, she still racked up more kills and did more damage then he could, but she had to give the man credit where credit was due. And he didn't even have siren powers...or anything special really...okay...maybe some special qualities. His ability to be so goddamn positive and innovative. Being able to be both cheeky and funny in any situation he found himself in. Then there was his confidence...he had a lot of that, especially when it came to his flirting. Most of his flirts were as passive and playful as the old man was himself. But yesterday had been the first time he'd been this forward with her. There were others that caught the old man's eye. There was Ellie, Moxxi, Lorelei, Zer0, and Mordecai. Those were just the first few that came to mind. Amara wondered if the operative had made such bold attempts with them as well. Moxxi for sure, but that was no surprise. The woman was a knockout, and she had seen Zane try to work his charm on a few occasions. But if there were others, she hadn't counted herself to be among those he'd try his luck with.

It made her want to punch him...she didn't know why. Just that she had no idea just how annoying the old man's flirtatious nature could be. Even more so, the implications it brought with it...to know that he wants her in that way and could be honest and upfront to her face about it. Amara had her admirers, she knew people lusted for her and wanted to be with her. She couldn't blame them, she knew she was worth it. Though most never mustered enough courage to try. The few that did always turned out to be either full of themselves or were not worth her time. In regards to her charms and charisma, she was not surprised that one or more teammates could desire her.

Amara knew Moze wanted her, and truth be told, the siren considered her. She liked the gunner well enough, she found the little soldier cute. But the soldier was reserved in admitting how she felt, even after all they'd been through together as a team. Amara still considered the gunner, but unless she mustered enough courage to speak her mind, the siren felt she'd never know if they'd go anywhere. She still had her career and legend to consider, and she couldn't wait on anyone who couldn't keep up with her. She had no time for games or the people who played them. They had to really want it, and want her enough to earn the attention they sought.

Amara supposes this is why the old man irritated her at times. He always seemed to play his games, so she wasn't certain of what to make of him. He had done it so casually and without hesitation. He knew she could have crushed his skull, made him a human pretzel, or even punched him so hard he exploded. Apparently none of that registered in his head or had been enough to deter him from being as forward as he was. She supposes that's a good thing, it meant she could trust him to keep his cool, and would explain how and why he was so effective as a member of their team. Still, they'd have to have a talk about boundaries. Especially if yesterday was any indication of how far he wanted to play this game with her. He got off easy because he had surprised her. But next time, she wouldn't put it off so playfully.

In regards to her commander's question about the old man, Amara had already agreed to the deal they had made the day before. It made no sense to back out because Zane was only being himself. She was the tiger, and if the old man wanted to play cat and mouse with her, then she would be the one to pounce him. And not in the way he'd hope for. Amara looked to her commander and pupil, "I believe the old man and I can pull off my plan just fine. And if we can't, we'll give the signal to call the rest of you in. Not that I think we'll have to."

Ava's expression remained serious, but a moment later let out a sigh of resignation. "I'll hold you to that." The young siren affirmed, "If things get bad, you make that call, and we'll be there. I'll put in the frequency for the port you want us to drop you two at when your both ready." Amara nodded in understanding and made her way out of the bridge. Now she and Zane had to discuss on how next to proceed, and what was to be expected from this partnership.

Amara awaited Zane in Moxxi's, as they had agreed that it would be better than to be seen going into each other's rooms. Didn't need the inhabitants of Sanctuary spreading gossip or making assumptions. Despite the size of the ship, everyone was closed into each other. Hell, their rooms were right next to the living quarters of the ship, where people would come to hang out and socialize.

Amara sat at one of the tables at the side of the bar, meanwhile having herself a cup of chai. Another reason Amara assumed Zane wanted Moxxi's to be there meet had been because the man likely planned to start drinking afterwords. Amara had no issue with the consumption of alcohol from time to time, but those moments were very few. Zane drunk himself and others under the table more than any other person she'd care to see engage in alcoholism. At times, she wanted to tell him to ease off on his drinking, as his consumption of the beverage could be hazardous to both himself and the team if he was not careful.

Yet somehow the man would make it work. It even made him better at the task set for him, to point Amara could say she was more than impressed. Amara supposed the term 'liquid courage' in alcohol could be coined for such nulling of the senses of one's own mortality. But Zane never showed much concern for himself when it came to his own life and the craziness he got up to. Not on the battlefield, and not in instances like he had with her yesterday. It seemed the effects of alcohol didn't null but enhanced the man's capabilities. For an addicting beverage that could kill you and harm your health, Zane took the negative effects of it in strides and somehow went even beyond that.

It was, for this reason, Amara refrained from saying anything to him on the matter. That, and she didn't want to play mother to someone much older than her. She couldn't say anything if his habit was in no way debilitating to him. And for as annoying as he could be sometimes, she liked him for most of the others. She couldn't complain, not when the man managed to make her smile and ease the tension to any situation their group found themselves in.

"That's my spot your in arsehole." said a man Amara did not recognize. Amara looked to the man and saw before her the tell-tale signs of a refugee down on his luck. He had to be, as the siren had never seen him before. The man wore a tattered dark cloth with a hood that covered him from head to his hind legs. The coat was unbuttoned, revealing a gray cotton shirt underneath. It was tucked into ripped filthy denim jeans that covered worn-out combat boots. Around his waist, he wore a gun belt with a set of bullets and what had looked to be a Jakobs revolver in one of the holsters.

From the looks of him, he was likely a Promethean scavenger. The Raiders consisted mostly of good people, but not everyone was on board to aid in the cause of hunting the vaults. Some people came aboard out of desperation, for an opportunity, or simply to make a fortune. Vault hunting attracted all types, and it seemed this one would be a problem. "I don't see your name on it." Amara responded, "Trust me when I say you won't win this fight."

"You sayin' I can't handle myself. I survived a Maliwan invasion, ye don't think I could take yer likes witch." The man stared down at her from where she sat. The cold steely blue of his eyes stared darkly into her own lavender gaze as if trying to assert some unseen dominance. Amara kept her cool, but the way this man looked down on her was starting to piss her off. She spoke, "Listen, we start a fight, you'll go down in the first round." Amara spoke down to the man from her seat. Any other time, she'd welcome a fight, but not now.

She continued, "Listen I'm waiting on someone, and he may be here any moment. If it wasn't for this person, you'd be out cold for before you even knew it. I'd suggest you take this opportunity to walk away. Or push your luck, see what happens." She smiled as she finished her warning. She straightened her posture, prepping for any move the man would make against her. She wasn't worried if he threw a punch, but she wouldn't risk a gun being pointed at her head. She kept herself ready in case the man tried anything.

The man smirked, "Couldn't recognize me could'ja." Amara went wide-eyed at the change of voice. She recognized it, but couldn't believe it was him standing before her. "Old man...is that you?" The man sat down at their table and spoke in a low conspiring voice. "Aye, it is. And when are ye gonna stop callin' me an old man." he joked, "I mean I'm all fer funny nicknames, but yer stratin to hurt me feelins."

Amara didn't know what to say...she was lost for words. The old man had changed...she didn't like it. It was just hair, but it was off-putting and strange to see him like this. She knows it shouldn't bother her as much as it did now, but it did. Seeing him as he was was just strange. There wasn't a time Amara would have imagined him outside those glowing blazers of his. If he was trying to lay low, then he succeeded. Cause everything he wore from the clothes to his own face seemed out of character.

"I'll take it from that lovely face of yers that ye didn't see this comin. Good, means the disguise works, and ye won't have to worry none 'bout me muckin things up for ya." Amara took a moment to regain her composure, and addressed the operative. "Zane...never do that again. I mean it, like never. I nearly knocked your head off." The operative sat back and relaxed in his chair. That shit-eating grin never leaving his face.

"Ye asked fer subtlety, it's what ya got. And I always aim te please." He finished his statement with a wink, causing Amara to roll her eyes. "Another thing," the siren spoke up, "I want you to stop doing that." "Doin' what?" the operative quirked a brow. He really had no idea what she was talking about. Amara answered, "The flirting, I want you to stop that." The operative's face registered interest with that order. "Ye never had a problem with me flirtin before. What happened? Realized ye wanted me all to yerself."

Amara leaned into the table, her face serious. "I mean it. I told you yesterday I had no time to play these games with you. And you took it too far yesterday. I get you think your being funny, but-" "I wasn't bein' funny." the operative spoke up, his confidence not leaving him. "Listen gorgeous, I'm serious when it comes te havin a good time. It doesn't have te be anythin' more than that. Nothin' wrong with wantin' te have a good time."

The siren was at a loss for words. She had her share of bold pricks who thought they were worth her time, but...this was weird. "Listen, I'd never force me'self on someone who didn' want it. If ye want me te stop, then I'll stop. No more flirtin' from little ol' me, not unless ye want me to." Amara doubted she'd ever want him to, but at least she knew the matter was settled. Still..."Good, then no flirting on the job either. I want you focused on finding the Panther. No distractions."

"Alright, but what if the job needs me te flirt?" the operative asked. "What if I need te extract infer'mation through seduction? Or need te charm me way out of trouble? Or-" Amara put her hand up, "Do what you have to, but what I say stands. Just play your games on your own time, not when you're on mine." Zane only shrugged in agreement, "As ye wish. No flirtin' while on the job. Anythin' else ye'd like te add to the task?"

Amara thought it over and found there was nothing else she wanted to add. "No, just what we agreed on yesterday and now." "Alrighty then," said the Flynt as he got up from his chair, "I've made me preparations, I have me instructions, when do we start?" Amara moved out of her own chair and addressed the operative. "When we're both ready to speak to Ava. I still need to get some things ready myself. If there's nothing else you'll need for our trip to my home planet, then wait for me at the bridge."

Zane simply nodded and made his way to Moxxi's counter. "One pint for the road gorgeous." Amara only rolled her eyes, and went up to him, "You're on my time starting now old man. Get your drink and get to the bridge." Zane turned toward the siren in surprise, but the woman had already started walking out to do what she had to. She left Zane's mouth agape. What was that about? Moxxi snickered, "Well aren't you two just cute."


End file.
